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After waking up in the Pokémon Center in front of Mt. Moon, I didn't waste any time. I got myself ready quickly, and we all went to get a proper meal. In a flash, I tossed my team members' favorite food into their bowls, while preparing my standard plate of omelet with bread and vegetables. There were pancakes with maple syrup on offer that looked perfect, but my healthy lifestyle didn't allow for exceptions—after those, I definitely wouldn't have the energy for a proper training session. I decided to spend today drilling and head through Mt. Moon tomorrow morning.
Squirtle's Water Gun was already sharp, fast, and strong enough to take down an average Geodude or Onix in a single hit. Houndour's Ember had also improved significantly, though more in quantity; the fire wasn't as thin anymore, although I obviously didn't know the exact temperature in degrees Celsius. And Haunter? He already had Acid Spray and Shadow Ball down perfectly; we were only lacking raw power, which was growing day by day.
I was mechanically eating my overplayed eggs, thinking about training, when I noticed a trainer walk into the cafeteria with a Poliwhirl that reached his waist. The Pokémon trotted happily beside him, but they didn't head for the buffet; instead, they walked straight toward me. I definitely wasn't in the mood to socialize. I think it was plain to see on my face, but he clearly didn't mind—he pulled up a chair and sat down right opposite me with a smile.
"Hi, I'm Bran!" he introduced himself enthusiastically, offering his hand.
"Did anyone give you permission to sit down?" I asked, annoyed.
My team sensed the tension in my voice, immediately looking up from their bowls to glare at him. Poor Poliwhirl literally shrank back under the intense stares of Squirtle and Houndour. His trainer, however, remained unfazed, that same smile plastered on his face.
But it instantly froze when Haunter drifted out of my shadow with a chilling grin.
"W-whoa, easy... Nurse Joy mentioned we might be able to help each other out," he raised his hands in a defensive gesture and continued, "I'm a pretty weak trainer, and for safety, it's better to travel in a group... Plus, my Poliwhirl and your Squirtle? Great combination."
I watched him in silence, frowning.
"Sorry if I offended you. Though, with that cap on inside the dining hall, you don't exactly look like someone who cares much about etiquette," he added apologetically.
I sighed in annoyance and took off my cap.
"My hair looks like I haven't seen a barber in months..." I shrugged, taking a deep breath. "It's not your fault, Bran. Just my bad mood."
This time, I was the one to offer my hand. He took it, and I introduced myself: "My name is Patrik. You can see my Pokémon, do you have any others?"
"No, just Poliwhirl," he shook his head. "I decided to catch all my team members myself, without using the P.E.X. So if something catches my eye, I'll catch it. Of course, we'll help each other out if we run into a Pokémon we want, right?" He smiled at me and quickly added, "As long as it isn't a Tyranitar—then I'm running!"
"Hmm, that's admirable... but in my opinion, a bit foolish. A lot of wild Pokémon will refuse to listen to you even if you catch them yourself, so buying them is a sure thing. At least in my experience."
Bran nodded. "Well, you might be right, but I made my mind up at the start and I'm sticking to it," he shrugged with a smile. "Everyone has their own path."
"That they do," I agreed. It seemed he didn't mind the criticism and stubbornly stuck to his guns, so his character was clear. "If we run into something you want to catch, I'll help you."
"Great, Patrik!" the optimistic enthusiasm returned to his voice. "When do we set out?"
"When would work for you?"
He began to think, while I examined him curiously. The most striking feature of his face was a massive, wide nose and kind brown eyes that radiated warmth. I could already tell he was gratingly optimistic. We'll see what happens if we get into a tight spot like the one I had with the Mankey.
What annoys a realist like me the most? Extreme optimism and extreme pessimism, I thought to myself, amused.
"How about this afternoon?" he suggested after a moment. "I'll have time to get myself together and pack for the trip."
"Not me," I shook my head in disagreement. "Tomorrow morning at the earliest."
I had just finished my last bite, and my team was done too, so I stood up. Bran got up as well. He had a narrow waist and a relatively slim torso, but completely massive biceps, while his shoulders and chest were noticeably underdeveloped. It was an enormous, comical disproportion. He was about ten centimeters shorter than me, so I looked down at him.
"Tomorrow morning it is, then," he agreed. "Right after breakfast."
I nodded in agreement, and after a moment, asked with amusement, "Do you only work out your arms, or what?"
"I try to work out everything!" he blurted out, raising his voice, his cheeks immediately turning red. "My genetics are just somehow set for arms—they're the only things that grow!"
"Alright, alright," I smiled slightly. "Nice to meet you, Bran. I'm off to train with my team and won't be back until evening, so we'll head out tomorrow morning."
"Okay," he agreed. "I still need to pack, get my things together, and then Poliwhirl and I will do some training too." His eyes drifted down to my chest and he continued, "Later on, maybe you can show me some chest exercises."
I flexed my chest muscles, making it look as if my pecs were waving at him. Bran instantly burst into a roaring laugh, as if he had never seen anything funnier in his life, covering his mouth with his hand.
"Well, I'll be damned! I want to learn how to do that too!"
I smiled at him in amusement and started to head out. "Later, Bran. I've got to run!"
My team followed me. As I walked, I thought about what had just happened. The memories I had gained were merging so deeply with reality that I had bounced my chest muscles purely out of habit. In this life, it was the first time I had actually done it, but in the memories of the other guy, it had been a regular thing since high school. I could feel our consciousnesses fusing to the point where I sometimes struggled to distinguish which memories were originally his and which were mine.
It would have terrified me a lot more if I didn't feel respect and admiration for the person from those memories. I fully agreed with most of the decisions from his life, so there was no internal conflict of opinions or thoughts between us. It was simply a perfect convergence of two minds.
I greeted Nurse Joy just out of politeness as I walked past the reception desk and out of the Pokémon Center, but she remained cold as ice. I understood why. Out here, in the true wilderness and at the threshold of such a dangerous place, an immense number of trainers and Pokémon must have died during her time working here. While the Joys in the cities were full of life and always had a warm smile, this one could freeze hell with a single look.
"We're running back to the clearing. Let's keep training, guys," I commanded, immediately breaking into a jog.
This time, Squirtle was doing even better. I saw him automatically using his tail while running, which made him faster again. Before long, we reached the clearing. Even from a distance, I noticed another trainer standing there. Beside him was a Meowth and a Geodude that already looked like it had had enough for the day. As soon as I arrived, he greeted me with a smile: "Hey there!"
The guy was about my age, wore glasses, dressed in survival gear from a brand called Camp & Catch, and was quite skinny. But what instantly caught my eye was the color of his hair—it was a vibrant, bright blue.
"Hey," I replied. "Are you going to be here much longer? I wanted to train here, like I have the past few days."
"Well, I was planning on training here too," he said, running a hand through his blue hair with an apologetic smile.
"How about a battle for the training spot?" I suggested after a moment. I didn't want to share the space, and I also figured he might be a potential opponent in a future tournaments.
"I don't have any money," he shook his head.
"No money. Just for the clearing. And I'll use my weaker Pokémon," I countered.
At that exact moment, I felt three sharp glares from my team. I already knew that whoever I ended up choosing, I'd have to make it up to them. Calling any of them "weaker" was a direct blow to their pride.
"Alright then," he agreed at my insistence. "Meowth, I choose you!"
"Houndour," I chose.
He growled at me, but obediently stepped forward and fell into a battle stance. We moved a bit further away, where there was an ideal spot for a one-on-one battle, and prepared to start. Houndour was just as strong as Squirtle, at least if they were to fight each other. I chose him mainly because a cat-versus-dog fight seemed amusing—a classic cliché from my old memories.
I found a slightly larger rock on the ground and said, "We start when it hits the ground. Ready?"
The blue-haired trainer simply gave a silent nod. I tossed the stone into the air between us. As soon as it landed in the dust with a dull thud, I barked, "Ember!"
Houndour tensed, opened his maw, and within his two-second limit, unleashed a stream of fiery attack. The training was paying off, but Meowth wasn't just standing around. He instantly dodged the flames to the side and rushed straight for Houndour, sharp claws extended. My Pokémon kept breathing fire for a moment, but the cat deftly changed directions, dodging the heat and sprinting closer to my canine beast.
They were only a few paces apart when Houndour ran out of breath and the Ember died out.
"Leap back and Ember again!" I commanded.
He tried to jump back, but Meowth was faster. Claws slashed mercilessly across Houndour's face. Houndour whimpered in pain and recoiled. But the cat agilely pursued him, and I knew we didn't have time for another Ember.
"Bite!" I switched the command.
Houndour snapped his jaws quickly, but Meowth gracefully leaped over him to the side, sinking his sharp claws into his flank and scratching wildly. Houndour howled in pain but refused to back down.
"Roll left!" I ordered quickly.
Houndour obeyed, whimpering as he rolled out of range. Meowth pursued him instantly, his white fur stained with blood dripping from his claws onto the grass. We had no choice—this cat was simply too fast.
"Houndour, take the hit from those claws, hold him, and Bite!" I barked out rapidly.
Meowth's trainer had a wide grin on his face, casually dictating his Pokémon's next moves.
"He's jumping left!" I barked at my dog, loud enough for my opponent to hear. And that was exactly what happened—I had predicted the opponent's move perfectly.
The moment Meowth leaped to his left and tried to slash him, Houndour clamped his jaws mercilessly onto the cat's shoulder. A loud bone-snapping sound echoed. My Pokémon dragged him down to the ground and tore furiously with his jaws. The white fur on the cat's chest instantly stained red.
"Use your claws! Break free!" the blue-haired guy shouted, the smile finally vanishing from his face.
"Don't let go!" I commanded coldly.
Meowth struggled for a little longer, hisisng wildly and scratching Houndour's side with his free paw, but Houndour didn't let go, thrashing him savagely. Before the cat could go completely limp, it was enveloped in the red light of a Pokéball recall.
Houndour howled in triumph, then immediately whimpered in pain. Both of his flanks and his face were deeply gashed by the sharp claws. To spare him further suffering, I recalled him into his ball.
The blue-haired trainer approached me with his smile back, offering his hand. "Good battle. We underestimated you!" he admitted, totally relaxed.
"Yeah, your Meowth was incredibly fast. We barely pulled through," I replied, shaking his hand.
He nodded with satisfaction. "Yeah, we're focusing on speed and agility until he evolves into Persian. The clearing is yours. I'll head back to the Pokémon Center to get him patched up. See ya!"
He waved and walked away, still smiling.
I immediately pulled a blanket, a spray potion, and some clean water out of my bag. I summoned Houndour back from his Pokéball. He greeted me with a whimper and licked my hand.
"Great job, Houndour. I didn't expect that Meowth to be so fast, but you won us our training spot!" I scratched him under the chin in praise while inspecting his scratched-up face. Fortunately, the bloody gashes weren't too deep, and they had missed his eyes.
"Houndour!" he barked in agreement.
"Close your eyes. I'm going to spray some medicine on your face, and then the rest of your body," I ordered. With another whimper, he complied. I aimed the nozzle and began spraying his face as if watering flowers.
He winced with each spray. It seemed to me, though, that he minded the liquid itself more than any actual pain. After two spritzes, the scratches on his face closed up completely. They vanished so thoroughly that not a single trace remained.
"You can open your eyes now. Turn sideways," I commanded.
The gashes on his side were significantly deeper than those on his face. Blood was slowly dripping from them onto the grass, so I didn't waste any time and quickly sprayed those too. That Meowth had really gone to town on him—he was insanely fast.
After a few more sprays, these wounds closed up as well, though this time a small scar remained on his body—right where the claw had cut the deepest. I used up the remaining potion on his other flank from the opposite side.
"Do you have any other wounds?" I asked just to be sure once I was finished. The bottle was completely empty, but I had about ten more of these potions in my bag.
"Houndour!" he barked in disagreement, his tongue lolling out happily.
"Awesome. Once again, great job, Houndour. That was our first official win. From now on, you'll be battling more often, and we'll start seeking out other trainers. We all need to get stronger and gain valuable experience," I announced to the entire team standing around me. Absolute determination shone in their eyes.
"And now, we're going to wash that blood off you," I announced to Houndour with a smirk. At that, he instantly whimpered as if he were dying and collapsed into the grass.
"Or Squirtle can use a weak Water Gun," I suggested, amused. "Your choice!"
"Houndour Hound Houndouuuuur!" he howled, sounding as if I were skinning him alive.
"Stop making a scene, you didn't mind the bath that much last time!" I replied, flicking some water at him. "Stand up!"
With another dramatic whimper, he pushed himself up onto his feet and waited dutifully for me to clean him. Squirtle watched the whole process in silence, while Haunter, judging by his wide, sharp grin, was thoroughly enjoying the show. Once finished, Houndour was clean, and the team was fully ready. We could get back to training.
"Houndour, Squirtle!" I called out. "Angle yourself toward the wall, aim for the X—Ember and Water Gun!"
Both nodded, moved over to the wall, and immediately got to hard work on their auric techniques.
"Haunter, your Acid Spray and Shadow Ball are decent. But we could learn Hex," I suggested.
"Haunter?" he asked skeptically, tilting his head.
"If you used a combination of Hypnosis, Acid Spray, and then Hex immediately after, it would be an devastating combo. If the target is suffering from a status condition, Hex strikes with double the power. I reckon it would be at least a third stronger than Shadow Ball then," I explained to him. "It's a spiritual technique, though, and I don't know exactly how to help you learn it. But you could try putting a Pokémon under hypnosis first, and then channel spiritual energy at them while focusing on their weakness. That might help manifest Hex. Make sense?"
"Haunt! Haunter!"
"Since we're out here anyway, you'll need to head into the surrounding area and practice it on wild Pokémon," I commanded. "Check back in with me every once in a while, okay? We'll be training here until evening."
Haunter gave an eager nod of agreement. In a split second, he faded into the rocks across from us.
From that moment on, the only sounds echoing through the clearing were the heavy impact of water, the hissing of evaporating droplets, and the crackle of Ember, clashing exactly in the center of the drawn X on the stone wall.
I watched the scene with satisfaction for a while. I was glad Houndour had already forgotten my comment about being the "weaker Pokémon" and was working his tail off. Today he had secured his first win. I was actually proud of him—especially when I remembered that not long ago, he was just a battered, emaciated pup.
But then my thoughts drifted back to Lindsay. The smile instantly vanished from my face. With a heavy sigh, I began to warm up. It was time for a brutal physical workout to clear my head of everything I wanted to forget.
***
Author's note:
Houndour proudly claims his first victory!
Things have been pretty hectic lately, so I'm really glad I managed to write this chapter today. Hope you enjoy it! :)
***
Step into the Restricted Section
The shadows are shifting, and the story goes much deeper... If you can't wait for the next update, Advanced Chapters are already waiting for you.
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Upcoming Chapters – Already Written(10):
27. Into the Depths
28. The Grey Disciple
29. Echoes of Mt. Moon
30. Heavy Metal and Sudden Growth
31. A Clash of Auras
32. Houndour: The Strength of the Pack
33. Above Average
34. Of Eggs and Iron
35. The Road to Cerulean
36. Boiled Lobsters and Double Beds
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